


expectations

by tsuluio



Category: Original Work
Genre: Angst, Assassins & Hitmen, Blood and Injury, Car Chases, Drinking, Fluff, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Minor Character Death, Mouth-to-Mouth, Sexual Tension, Slow Burn, overwhelmingly gay, rika stop flirting and be serious for once
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-18
Updated: 2020-03-26
Packaged: 2021-02-23 02:01:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23203909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tsuluio/pseuds/tsuluio
Summary: Slush is a trained assassin. After one too many targets missed, he's given a final chance: track down the former mafia member Rika and bring him back alive. The reward? Higher than he ever dreamed of. Should be easy enough.But then the mission takes a different turn and he finds himself instead becoming Rika's personal bodyguard, combating both his former contractor and the strange feelings rising inside of him. Not to mention that his new boss isn't exactly the best person to work with. If he dies, he'll die fighting. Just not with this asshole.
Relationships: Slush/Rika





	1. the failed mission

**Author's Note:**

  * For [vivi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/vivi/gifts).



> slush belongs to my best friend!

Stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

He can feel the ropes digging into his skin, but while it's not nearly as tight as they could've been, it's still tight enough to keep him from moving, which is frustrating.

Even more irritating is the fact that this guy managed to one-up him when _he_ was the one who had to take the idiot in. Stupid of him to rush in, he realizes this too late, but it happened, and he's stuck. His sword is propped on one end of the room, but as soon as his gaze locks on it, footsteps approach him and he jerks back to see his reflection in the polished ivory of a rather large button. His eyes reluctantly travel further to meet the gaze of the very same man he had seen only a few hours before: stupidly bright red hair, and even brighter clothes, and possibly the largest smile he's seen on someone's face. It doesn't even look realistic.

"Well good morning--"  
"When I get the fuck out of this place, it's fucking over for you."

Fuck the mission and keeping this guy alive. What the fuck was his name again? Rika? Stupid name, but whatever. If Slush could just get his hands on his sword, he'd end this guy's life in a heartbeat, but obviously, if he wanted to stay living too, that isn't allowed. 

Rika laughs. "I'm sure it will be, sweetheart~"

_Stupid_.

"This isn't a fucking game, asshole," he spits. Rika's expression doesn't change past mild amusement as he pretends to consider the assassin's words, which is irritating on way too many levels. 

"Well, I do have some offer for you, if you're willing to consider it.." He winks at the restrained person before him, as if that would help say it any faster. Slush growls, impatient. It occurs to him that he probably had failed this mission already and that whatever chances that organization had given to him were used up. Pathetic, really, but he didn't have a choice but to listen to his target pretty much openly flirt with him.

"Spit it out then, dumbass."

Rika's stupid smile widens slightly. "Ah, well, compadre," he drawls out, rolling the r past recognition, which only serves to piss Slush off more, "how about I strike you a deal?"  
Slush grumbles a few choice curse words in Italian before glaring up at his captor. "Well, go ahead. I have all the time in the fucking world, idiot. Do us both a favor and just fucking say it."

Rika hardly looks fazed. "Well, how about you work for me, then?"

Slush's eyes narrow. "That's stupid." It's a comment that has become near instinct by now, but it's true. Why the fuck would he work for this guy? Two seconds and he already was pissing Slush off, not to mention Rika is a target that has way too much cash on his head to be ignored. His eyes slip to the sword again. If he can just get to it--

Rika steps in front of his gaze again and Slush snarls. "C'mon now, cutie, I pay _way_ better than whoever sent you to try to kill me."

_Not kill you,_ Slush thinks, but he stays silent at that, resolved to just glare at the asshole. "And how should I know that?"

Rika shrugs, another annoying gesture. "Well, you don't. But I could kill you, as much as I'd hate to do that, y'know?" 

Normally, Slush would disagree on the spot, mostly to save himself the embarrassment of being tormented, but the tall and skinny prick standing before him in _heels_ of all things, has proven, whether the assassin likes it or not, that he's more than capable of killing him. He should be lucky to even be given this offer, and the situation he's in reminds him rather horrifically of the jackass who even sent him here in the first place.

Dammit, he needs his sword to get out. The target is, admittedly, smarter than he realizes by staying in between his gaze and the weapon at hand. But still stupid. And still an ass. 

But he can do threats, and threaten he does: "What if I just kill you?"

"Don't make me laugh, sweetheart." Rika snickers. "You're the sexy one tied up here, arencha?" 

_Did he just call him sexy?_

Slush shakes his head to clear them of irrational thoughts. His life is on the line here, in the hands of some jerk who couldn't bother to dress properly. His eyes hurt from staring at the brightness of it all. Besides, what else could he do? The organization would probably kill him for failing this stupid mission too, so he has no other choice. "..Fine."

Rika's smile seems to turn genuine, which is weird and stirs something sticky in Slush's chest. "Really? Okay, do you promise not to try to kill me if I let you out?"

"Only if you don't fucking murder me the second I'm free, dumbass."

The target claps a dramatic hand to his chest. "I'm offended you'd even suggest such a thing!"

"In my defense, you're a fucking asshole."

Rika snorts. "Ah, you're just jealous I got the upper hand. No need to be so salty, sir."

"I'm not salty, fuck off."

"As you wish." Rika winks at him, the infuriating bitch. "I'm going to untie you now, are you okay with that, sweetheart?"

Slush groans and rolls his eyes. "Oh, no, I just _love_ the feeling of rope digging into my skin--"  
"Well I'm not one to judge if you're into being tied up, my dear."

Oh. _Oh._ _No._ But while Slush knows exactly what Rika is going for, he's not going to indulge. "Oh fuck you. It was fuckin' sarcasm."

He realizes too late he just enabled Rika even further than the asshole already was. 

"I doubt the professionality of our new partnership if we were to fuck one another, but I'm open to doing it another time if you'd like~ I would like to know your name, though, hot stuff."

Slush scoffs. The ropes twist into his skin as he tries to get free again, this time more of comfort than murdering this douchebag in front of him. "None of your fucking business."

Rika giggles. "I think your name might suit you better than 'hottie', dontcha think? Mine's Rika, in case you couldn't read whatever file they gave you to track me down."

"I can read, asshole."

"Well, I think in person introductions are better, in my opinion. They can get pretty intimate--"

"Are you actually like this or are you just being annoying for my lack of amusement."

Rika looks somewhat surprised at being cut off, which Slush revels in, but the smile is quickly back and suddenly he's leaning down, their noses almost touching, and Slush catches the faint smell of pepper. "Being annoying is my specialty, darling~"

Heat rises to Slush's face and he jerks away from the other, seething. "No wonder so many people are after you, then," he bites out, and Rika lets out a chuckle, tossing his hair back from his face as he straightens up.

"As hilarious as it would be, we all know they're after me because I'm just that irresistible."

Slush rolls his eyes again. "Yeah, keep thinking that."

"I will, thank you~"

"Just keep it out of trouble."

He surprises both of them by saying that, but the change of emotion on Rika is barely noticeable. It's almost alarming how easily he leans into that, but Slush supposes that's a quality about his new boss that he has to get used to, whether he likes it or not. "Awww, we just met and you're already telling me to stay out of trouble!"

If Slush didn't read the file, he wouldn't believe this guy is a grownass adult. "It's literally my fucking job."

"Yes, well I didn't expect it to turn out this well," Rika says with a shrug as he kneels to untie Slush's arms and legs. Freedom feels good, but Slush stays seated, as he did owe something like that to this prick, but he watches his former target with sharp eyes as Rika moves to write something down, leaving Slush's sword unattended, but the assassin doesn't move towards it.

He does, however, twist in his seat to stare. "I'm here for a paycheck and nothing else," he reminds the taller, voice grating. "Don't get too far ahead of yourself."

"Ah, well, the last person who I tried this on tried to kill me regardless, so I think precautions are a bit necessary."

Slush neglects to tell him that Rika had literally just untied him with clear reach of a weapon in favor for grimacing at his new boss' casual tone at barely escaping death. "Do you want me to write down I won't kill you or something."

"Nope!" Rika pops the p as he spins back around, shoving something into his pocket. Another wink. "I trust ya."

"Sure, whatever." A good look at his wrists tell him that the rope had left marks, unsurprisingly, angry red burns along his skin. "Though that's stupid since your previous bodyguard tried to kill you."

"I've got low standards," is the unfulfilling reply, and Slush scoffs.   
"Yeah, I can tell." Another thought strikes him. "How do I know you're not gonna get rid of me as soon as my back is turned?"

He knows for a fact that his past organization would in a heartbeat, and Rika definitely is along the trustworthy lines of some fucker who had too many people to dispose of and too little space to accommodate it. Which is to say Slush can't trust him. At all.

And it doesn't help that the cheeky smirk is back on the other's face. "'Cause you're hot."

"Wow, I feel so reassured right now."

Rika sighs, and for a moment, the smile drops, and Slush gets a clear, satisfactory view of his boss not smiling. But it's only for a second. "Trust works both ways, doesn't it?"

A pause.

"I suppose so," Slush says finally. He hates agreeing with ths fucker. "But I want to avoid having my fucking time wasted here."

"It'll be worse if you stay with whoever sent you here, right?" Rika asks, and Slush doesn't tell him how directly he hit that nail on the head. How the hell could this pompous ass jerk even know about this? "It's up to you anyway, sweetheart. If you decide to leave, well, then I'll just let you walk out this door here, unharmed." He gestures behind Slush, the assassin narrowing his eyes. 

"You sound as trustworthy as them right now. But fuck you, I don't have a choice anyway."

Rika's expression flattens into something unreadable. "Would you like some help with your injuries?"

_What?_

The sudden change of topic leaves Slush suspicious, but it's probably better to go with the flow. "I've had worse." Assuming Rika's talking about the rope burn, but if he isn't, then Slush doesn't know what's up with this guy. He doesn't like not knowing things, but he just met Rika, and the file only said so much about him. Not that he was a giant flirt and definitely not that he would randomly change subjects every five seconds. Just the stupid name and the connection to the mafia, which, Slush is starting to notice, seems to fit right in with the lack of predictability here.

Rika clasps both hands together, leaning back with a sudden grin. "I'm sure you have, but it's the start of our partnership! We should start off with minimal obstacles, don't you think?"

A beat.

"Fine."

"Okay, just stay still for a moment~"

Rika bends down and removes his gloves. The procedure is almost done like a strip performance, without breaking eye contact, but it's over and now Rika's reaching for his wrists. The former target's skin is surprisingly warm, and Slush feels the weird sensation in his gut twist even more as it gets warmer, and suddenly Rika's pulling away, the red marks gone from Slush's skin. He stares down at his wrists numbly and almost forgets his situation before Rika speaks, the asshole.

"There! Does that feel better?"

He's smiling expectantly, almost as if anticipating praise, which Slush sure as hell isn't going to give him. But gratitude should work. Maybe. "Uh. Yeah. Thanks."

Rika winks at him. "No problem~"

He busies himself with picking up the coils of ropes and tossing them to the side, looping one around his waist, but Slush doesn't find himself commenting on that. The weird feelings aside, Rika had somehow healed him. The pain is gone, the marks are gone, and Slush can't help but feel a bit creeped out by it.  
"How does that shit work anyway."

"What?" Rika looks up at him from making his impromptu rope belt. 

"That." He gestures to his wrists, and Rika blinks before recognition sets in. 

"Oh, uh, I can heal people. And also regenerate limbs, but that part doesn't work on other people, so if you lose a limb, you're on your own, compadre."

Great.

"Yeah, okay, like I was planning on losing a limb today."

Rika's face flashes concern. "I should hope not."

"I was joking, idiot."

His boss raises an eyebrow, but doesn't say anything, the smile reappearing. "Alright... anyway, if you don't want to give me your name, what do I call you?"

The question is dumb and inconsiderate, not considerate at all.

"I thought you were settled on calling me hottie."

"Ah, but you claimed it was annoying. But if you insist~"

Slush grumbles. He has quite a few qualms about being called hottie, and it's only for that reason that he shoots out a quick "Slush is fine."

Rika's eyes shine. "Well, pleasure to meet you, Slush~" He offers the assassin a hand, but Slush brushes it away.

"The feeling isn't mutual."

"You're too funny, sir."

"It wasn't a fucking joke," Slush growls, which only elicits a playful eyeroll from Rika.

"Obviously _not_ , but let a guy have some fun, can't you?"

"I'm only paid to keep you alive, not joke around, jackass."

"You're too cute, but if you insist." Rike spins to point out the window. "This leads to the rooftop, if you follow the drain pipes. I assume your team figured you failed and are now sending in the big guns, so we have about five seconds to get out."

Slush snarls and bolts to his feet, yanking the sword from its place. "Could've told me that earlier, idiot."

"I was preoccupied," Rika says with an easy smile. He's suddenly very close to Slush's body, the heat radiating off him in waves. "You can handle the stress though, can't you~?"

"Preoccuped with being a fucking asshole," Slush grunts distractedly, shattering the window with a single blow. "Just try to keep up."

"Right behind you, sir."

Slush hardly waits for Rika to finish his sentence before he vaults through the window, landing squarely on an outcropping. The drain pipe is within arms reach and he grasps it, scaling the wall to the rooftop. Rika emerges besides him only seconds later. 

"So you aren't entirely useless," Slush says harshly, and Rika grins at him.

"I did end up winning and tying you to a chair, didn't I?"

"Luck." He sets out across the rooftop, Rika following close behind, the faint click of his heels driving an incessant rhythm into Slush's head. 

"Really?" The tone, even without looking at him, is annoying. "How high is the bounty on my head right now?"

Slush growls, kicking aside a pebble as he leaps to the next roof. "Find out yourself."

"That's what I thought." Slush can almost see the grin on Rika's face now. "So you weren't careful enough to allow luck to push the tides in my favor?"

The assassin stops so suddenly that Rika nearly crashes into him. "God, do you ever shut up? So what if I was a little sloppy."

Rika's mouth curls into a smug smirk. "A little sloppy and you would've died, my dear."

"No shit," Slush mutters as he casts his gaze on the streets below, searching for a better way out. "I get it, so shut up."

Rika, evidently, didn't hear the order, because now he's hanging halfway over the edge, pointing down to the road beneath them. "Hey, isn't that one of your buddies down there? They look so serious and hot, damn~"

Slush grabs him by the shirt collar and yanks him back, cursing. "Can you be serious for one fucking second?"

Rika looks back at him, the infuriating smile still on his face. "It's okay, sir, I trust you."

"You're basically asking to get killed."

Slush assesses his surroundings: one that Rika pointed out, two farther down the street, and another about to enter the apartment they just left. They have about five minutes at most, and he needs to think fast. Rika, however, just doesn't seem to get it. It's a miracle that the idiot even managed to survive this long like this, with seemingly no regards for the danger at hand. 

"Ooh, not exactly, but I can call 'em over if you'd like~"

"Just shut up," Slush snaps, and Rika winks.

"Of course, sir."

He mimes zipping his lips and then, using one hand, mimes running away and climbing down to the sprawling street below. Slush resists the urge to slap him.

"How the fuck is this more annoying than you talking?"

Rika mimes unzipping his lips. "Well, glad you asked--"

Movement and Slush shoves Rika facefirst into the tiles roof. "Get down!" 

Gunfire scatters overhead and Slush manages to hit the roof as well. Two masked men are approaching from the rooftop of Rika's apartment, guns at the ready, and Rika wipes his face, still lying lengthwise along the roof. "Nice reflexes, sir."  
"This isn't the time, asshole," Slush shouts, and grabs Rika around the waist, tugging him back, but the men are now standing above them. A flash and his sword is out, flicking evenly along one of the outstretched weapons, slicing it in two as it backfires, its owner screaming in pain. Rika yelps as the other turns the barrel towards him and pries a tile off the roof, throwing it like a shuriken into the man's knees. He goes down with a yell of pain and Slush pushes himself to his feet, grabbing Rika around the wrist. The next roof will leave them open, the streets are too empty to hide, and the alleyway beneath them--

The alleyway.

It's the best option out of all the unfavorable ones, and Slush practically throws Rika into a dumpster, praying that the trash bags will cushion the other's fall as more gunfire erupts around him. He deflects a few bullets from the flat of his sword before leaping after his boss. Rika scrambles out of the way to make room for him as Slush overturns the container, tilting them both onto the concrete. 

"Run," he says, but Rika doesn't need much telling, thankfully. The two scramble down the alleyway, huddling when shrapnel flies overhead. Three figures block their escape, and Rika, somehow, is the one to react first: he grabs the rope that's strapped around his waist and unravels it, cracking it like a whip across the guns in the other's hands; two yelp and drop their weapons while the third take aim. 

Slush manages to shield the first few bullets by allowing them to ricochet off of his sword, but one manages to pass through his defense and hits Rika in the arm. The healer lets out a grunt and staggers back as Slush moves forward to separate their enemies' head from their shoulders. The duo watch as the three bodies collapse onto the pavement, blood pooling around their feet, before Slush remembers that Rika is injured. First day on the job, barely an hour, and he already fucked up; his hands jerk at his shirt to make a bandage, but a warm hand lands on his arm.

"It's fine, sweetheart," Rika says with a half smile, holding up the bloodstained bullet. His wound is already closing, the blood slowing to a trickle, though the hole in his jacket sleeve remains.

"You need to stay back," Slush shoots back as he shakes Rika off and stalks past him. "You're going to die at this rate idiot."

"Not with you around, cutie~" is Rika's response, and Slush just bites his bottom lip to keep from punching the other, eyes scanning the area around them. 

"We need to move."

Rika hums. "I'd assume so, yes."

"So move."

Rika blinks. "W--"

Slush whirls and throws his sword at the other; Rika just barely manages to duck, and the blade flashes over his shoulder to hit another assassin, who had nearly gotten close enough to Rika to grab him. The black-clothed figure wobbles and collapses silently, the sword wedged in his throat and Slush retrieves his blade, turning to stare at Rika, who only meets his gaze with the faintest of smiles. 

"You were saying?"


	2. on the rooftop

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rika tells Slush stuff. Slush isn't interested. And as if the trust level between them is already low, it somehow gets lower.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i wonder how many filler chapters i can cram before i lose my mind

It's dark now, and Slush is almost grateful for it. At least he doesn't have to see the exasperating smirk on Rika's dumb face as the two of them scramble in through the window of an abandoned apartment. Almost as soon as they're inside, Rika's face is suddenly illuminated by the glow of a cell phone; something that Slush didn't even realize he possessed, but obviously the idiot was just checking his Instagram feed or whatever the fuck bounty targets did in their spare time.

He reaches over and slaps the device from the taller's hands and they watch it skitter away under the bed. "What the fuck are you doin' that for? You wanna get traced, idiot? They probably already--"

"Relax, geez," Rika laughs as he slides under the bed to retrieve the phone; Slush gets a dim view of his ass as the other slips back out and flashes the screen at the assassin. "I was just contacting Mel."

"Who the fuck is that, and why should I care?"

If the phone had been on Rika since the very beginning, which was likely, then literally everyone within range of the signals could hone in on their position and kill them both. Slush doesn't trust this man nearly as far as he could throw him, and that is to say, a long way. Or rather, he doesn't know the exact range, but it's far, especially with how thin this guy is, he'd be less than an issue to pick up and hurl into the sun.

Rika's still talking.

"Ah, well, she's a good friend of mine I found when I was in the city before all this money assassin crap happened. Don't worry about being tracked, sir, if that's what you're so worked about, 'cause I snatched this phone outta the trash you so nicely threw me in."

"The trash that you should belong in with clothes like yours," Slush interrupts, and Rika lets out a breathy laugh.

"Your shirt's equally tacky, sweetheart. I think we both belong there if that's what you're going off of."

"Shut up," Slush growls, and Rika snorts before continuing his explanation.

"Anyway... she's used to picking up all sketchy calls because I've gotten a new number at least twenty times already. Got her number memorized right here."

In the luminescence from the phone screen, Slush watches Rika tap his forehead with a grin. 

"But it's so she doesn't get tracked, y'know? As cute and sweet and as masterful in jujitsu as she is, I highly doubt she could do anything against long range weapons like guns and that sexy sword of yours. So I got this. And I'll toss it after a few." He wags the phone at Slush's face. "Gotta keep in contact so she doesn't think I've died, yeah?"

"I guess." 

Slush's less than satisfactory answer seems to garner more attention from Rika, as his boss stares at him for a moment before calling Mel. It goes straight to voicemail, and a rather flat voice drifts out: "This is Mel, which you probably know if you're smart, and if not, you're dumb and should figure out what number you were actually trying to dial."

Rika grins at the message; it's an odd response, and Slush is still figuring out why when the phone beeps. 

"Hey Mel," Rika starts, the grin still on his face. "Just tellin' you I'm not dead yet and you should be grateful and relieved. Thanks! Bye!"

He shuts off the phone, plunging the two into semi-darkness. Slush half expected the other to ramble on the call for forever, considering he seemed to be that type, but Rika simply ended the call without even mentioning anything past his active status. Nothing about Slush accompanying him, nothing about anything except casual indifference and a blunt voicemail. 

It occurs to him that maybe Rika has done this before, or maybe he actually does know what he's doing, underneath all the stupid flamboyancy and the incessant flirting, but of course, Slush gives it no further thought. Rika's business is his own. He's just here to get paid for a job that seems to just become increasingly similar to that of a babysitter's.

The two sit in silence for a bit before his boss speaks up again, always with accursed conversation starters.

"How'd you get mixed up in all this assassin business, huh?"

Slush turns to meet the other's gaze. He's careful to keep his expression perfectly flat. "None of your business."

"Fair." Rika leans back while Slush is left to raise an eyebrow at the darkness beyond them. Another surprise. He doesn't like unpredictability, especially with Rika's aura that reminds him strongly of his old superior. He still can taste the blood in his mouth. The stupid healer is still talking, though, eyes slightly unfocused. "Though I guess people are after me 'cause of the whole healing business? Chamise wasn't too open about it, so I don't get how everyone suddenly knows but--"

"It wasn't on the file," Slush interrupts, and Rika's eyes flick over to him.

"What?"

"The.. healing shit or whatever. It wasn't on the goddamn file."

Rika continues to stare at him and Slush adds uselessly, "Who's Chamise?" It's not like he's interested in what the other has to say; he just thinks it's necessary to get all the details he can outta this guy, who talks too much for his favor. 

"My old boss."

Now this was something Slush could work with. Maybe he could even figure out if this Rika guy was worth protecting.

"He was a righteous asshole with no regards for who he killed to meet his goal: kids, seniors, his own friends, his own lover. He told me to stay on backline as the healer and then sent me all of the people who received injuries under his leadership, often under his own orders." Rika pushes the sleeve of his jacket up, and Slush just thinks he's about to make a point, but he gestures to his forearm, laid bare in the patch of moonlight between them. There are six tick marks there, etched lightly beneath the skin, so faint that Slush almost doesn't see them at first. "This is how many people Chamise killed under his command."

Slush's senses tunnel; it's almost much so that he barely hears Rika's next words. 

"And how many people I couldn't save."

Why is Rika telling him this? He doesn't need to know. The useful information that he convinced himself to listen for earlier is gone. All there's left is a sickening feeling in his gut, one that he manages to brush aside easily to glare through the strange mood the room had dropped into. "Why the fuck are you telling me this? I didn't ask."

Rika shrugs, rolling the sleeve back down. He's smiling again, teeth reflecting what little light there is into Slush's corneas. Unrealistic response to whatever deep shit he just spewed to an assassin he barely knew, but Slush is too confused to really say much past that. "I just want you to know. You seem like you don't trust me, and that's perfectly fine, but I think you should just know something other than I have a paycheck to hold over your head until I die."

"Whatever." Slush turns away, standing to stare out the window. He doesn't know how long they have until they need to move; the night, at the very least, will be fine. "Just go to bed, idiot."

Rika grins up at him. "I'd rather not, sweetheart. Shadows tend to move at night, y'know~"

"That's because you're moving, jackass."

"Ah, so observant of you." Rika stands, the weird spell broken as he wanders to Slush's side, the latter resisting the urge to shove him away. "Had no idea shadows move when the objects that create them move." He winks at Slush; the assassin hates that he can still see it in the dark. 

There's a sudden bzz sound and Rika looks down to see his stolen phone light up. The contact number he had just dialed had sent him a text in response to his phone call. Slush catches a glimpse of it before Rika can send a reply:

_You dumbass. Why are you awake so late? Never mind just get to bed. Probably gotta run for your life tomorrow; you wouldn't want to miss that._

The healer chuckles under his breath as he sends a reply, tucking the phone away and offering Slush yet another wink.

Slush rolls his eyes.

Rika insists on taking first watch so Slush grumbles and pushes himself into the farthest corner away from his boss, instead of the bed in front of him. His hand grips his sword almost as in second nature as he starts to drift off.

As his mind falls into oblivion, he wonders vaguely what it's like to have friends.

\--

Morning comes bright and early, and Slush is already ready to get moving. Rika hadn't woken him for his shift, which is stupid and inefficient, but the healer seems well-rested regardless. In the brighter light, Slush can see now that the prick is wearing red eyeliner, which matches the red color block that the assassin just now realizes is beneath Rika's only visible eye. Idiotic look, but remembering the comment earlier about the trash, Slush chooses to stay silent. That, and the fact that his superior hadn't even bothered to wake him up was a bit strange.

"We need to keep moving," he bites out, and Rika beams at him.

"Absolutely, sir. Lead the way."

They climb back out through the window and scale to the roof. Thank god the place is barren, which means they have a headstart.

"Wait, hang on."

Slush spins around impatiently. "What?"

Rika pulls the phone from his pocket and slams it to the rooftop, crushing it with the bottom of his left heel. The glass splinters and cracks upon impact and it sparks uselessly as Rika punts it off the rooftop. He turns to Slush, eye sparkling. "Okay, we can go now, sweetheart."

It was probably the most dramatic way he could've gotten rid of it, but it's gone now, and Slush can't waste time. He's very aware of the clicking noises of Rika's heels now. The faster he walks, the faster Rika goes to catch up with him, so he just settles for an anger-driven pace across the rooftops. 

He doesn't know where he's going anyway, and he's angry at himself for sleeping for so long. What if the douchebag got ahold of his sword and killed him? Surely, with those post-mafia skills, Rika would be able to defend himself on his own if he had a proper weapon--

Weapon.

He turns abruptly, but Rika manages to keep from crashing into him, like before. "What weapon do you have?"

"Weapon?" Rika blinks before raising an eyebrow. "My dear compadre, why do I need a weapon?"

"To defend yourself with, dumbass."

Rika snorts. "I use my surroundings, sir, not some actual weapon. Unless you count this." He taps his temple and Slush groans. 

"How the fucking hell have you stayed alive this long?"

The healer winks. "Luck."

A pause. Slush's lips curl in disgust before stalking away again.

"Hey now, it was a joke, sir!" Rika rushes after him, those outrageous heels tapping on the roof. Slush ignores him in favor of using a clothesline as a mode of transportation, hopping to the next building. He uses his sword as an anchor and pulls his way back up, looking back to see what the healer would do.

Two quick movements and Rika bounces off the clothesline, digging one heel onto a windowsill and hopping up to join the assassin. His smile is large and proud, which Slush couldn't care less to stoke his ego, so he scoffs and turns away. 

He refuses to be impressed. 

They walk in Rika's lengthy one-sided conversations for the next half hour, moving along as the sun rises in the sky. It's not that it's super hot or anything, but Rika moves forward so he's in step with Slush. His jacket is tied around his waist now, and Slush can see the dried blood caked around the hole in his sleeve where the bullet had pierced it only yesterday. He makes a pointed effort to not stare at Rika's arms.

"Ay, sir, you think we can move to the shade or something?"

Slush squints sideways at the taller face. "Why."

"It's hot," Rika supplies dramatically, flinging one arm out to what he made it seem like the baking heat of a small town.

"It's only 80 degrees, idiot."

"Yeah, so it's hot." Rika turns so he's walking sideways, offering Slush puppy dog eyes. Slush cuts him off before he can continue his pleas.

"No."

"Sir--"

"I said no, dumbass."

Rika whines something unintelligible, so Slush tells him in Italian to shut the fuck up. 

"Ooh, spicy~"

"It's just Italian."

"Oh, I couldn't tell from the crudeness of it," Rika replies airily. Slush narrows his eyes at the other's sarcasm. "I happen to be bilingual too, sweetheart~"

"Really."

Slush doesn't really care; a proper explanation is just better than Rika yammering on about jackshit. Rika, however, doesn't elaborate. It takes a moment for the assassin to realize his superior is no longer walking besides him either. He spins around, hand falling to the hilt of his sword to see Rika half in the grasp of a black cloaked assassin, his expression unreadable.

"Dammit," Slush growls, and the other assassin laughs, tightening their grip on Rika. 

"Careful there, you wouldn't want this prized possession dying on the run, do you?"

"You wouldn't kill him, you dolt."

"Ah, perhaps not, but only 'cause we gotta take him in alive, yeah?"

Slush watches Rika's eyes widen slightly as the healer processes this information. He has to choose his next words carefully or else this could end badly. This one probably assumes he's still with the organization, especially when they yank down their mask to leer at him. Rika, if the prick's words are to be taken by ear, could pay way more than whatever this was offering too, and Slush is already toeing the line of losing his life anyway.

"It's your last chance, _princess_ , so what're you doing out here without the target in chains, huh?"

Slush wracks his brain for an excuse, settling on mock anger, most of it real because that name hit him like a whip, but it was good to push his persuasion. "God, you have to mess it up, do you? I was taking him like he thought he was fuckin' free, god, you just messed this up."

He ignores the look on Rika's face and focuses on the assassin before him. "Let him go or else I'll have to report this in. Interfering with other targets is against the code, dumbass."

The other assassin hesitates, weighing their options, before their lips curl. "Fine. Just don't speak of this."

"Deal."

Slush watches as the assassin releases Rika, only for the former mafia member to jab his heel backwards into their crotch, sending them prostrate on the rooftop. The heel comes up again and there's a flash of metal from the end of it before it buries itself into the assassin's face. A thick pool of blood starts to seep from the enemy's skull and Rika turns to face Slush, expression forcibly calm, the smile made of plaster. "You were still planning on taking me in?"

"It was a ruse. Get your head in the game, idiot." But Slush keeps one hand on his sword, staring down the other. The tension is thick enough to cut with it, if he tried, but he wants the money, and he did just lie to that assassin. He has no intentions of bringing Rika back to the organization. Rika nods slowly, but his face seems frozen.

"I see." He waves a hand to move Slush onwards, and the assassin frowns before reluctantly turning his back on his boss, hopping to the next roof.

The next few hours pass in uncharacteristic silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oops


	3. car chase stuff

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's a car chase. And CPR.

Slush starts to feel like he should explain something. But what he should explain is beyond him. Rika's constant presence at his back starts to feel more of a warning, and it's harder to concentrate with the other practically looming over him.

Not that it was easy to concentrate in the first place. The constant supervision that the assassin had to provide was more than tiring, but this, Slush decides without deciding at all, this is worse.

He's almost thankful for the gunfire this time, and he catches a glimpse of the other assassins' positions based on the sparks from their guns, caught in the dusk of the darkening sky.

"Move," he growls, instinctively reaching out to tug Rika along faster. The two of them skirt the final rooftop and leap to the next one, the tile shattering at their feet. Slush draws his sword; the dim flash of it in the remaining light deflects several bullets aimed at his head before Rika shouts in his ear to be heard over the deafening gunshots.

"There's a car down there, sweetheart, if you wanna use that instead of your very nice legs."

"A what?" Forget the fact that they're being chased right now. What was the idiot talking about? A car? How the hell did he think to find a car when he's a wanted man? "Why?"  
"To move faster, sir," Rika says, and Slush swears to god that the other's teeth are as reflective as that stupid jacket. 

He catches sight of several figures moving towards them, and he grunts, yanking Rika off the rooftop, shifting their positions so he lands squarely on the pavement, knees bent, with Rika held bridal style in his arms. Rika pats his chest. "You're cute, sir."

"Shut up." Cheeks burning, he drops the healer, and Rika, prostrate on the ground, points to the nearest car. 

"That one."

"Do you know how to hotwire this shit or something?"

"Better." Rika stands, dusting himself off as he tosses Slush something. The assassin catches it instinctively. They're car keys. "Try those." The smugness in his voice is almost unbearable, but it's better than that awkward silence before; at least Rika doesn't seem like the type to hold grudges for long.

Slush glares at him before a well aimed shot nearly takes out his legs and he quickly unlocks the car, sliding into the driver's seat as Rika takes shotgun. He slams his foot on the accelerator and they shoot down the road.

"Got company, sir," Rika says suddenly, and Slush glances in the rearview mirror to see three SUVs on their tail, figures on the rooftop of all cars. He curses in Italian and goes faster. 

"Switch with me, idiot."

Rika stares at him, amusement palpable. "And what? Throw your sexy sword at them? I have guns in here; it's okay."

"What the fuck." Slush swerves to avoid what looks like an anchor being thrown at them from one of the SUVs. "How the fuck do you know there's a gun in here?"

"Cause I put it here," Rika says, and he cranks his seat back, crawling into the backseat to retrieve whatever fuckery he claimed to possess as Slush is forced to swerve again. "Need to have some viable weapons, yeah?"

He reemerges with what resembles a shotgun, and before Slush can say anything, he rolls down the window and shoots backwards, the gun emitting a strange whining sound and a bright blue plasma bolt instead of an actual bullet. The figure on the foremost SUV falls off, and Rika whoops, even as the SUV itself opens fire. Slush jerks on the steering wheel and the car slides to the left, racing down a narrow alleyway. 

"Put your seatbelt on, asshole."

"Glad you hold some concern for me, sweetheart." Rika slides into the car again. He takes off one of his heels and slices a hole into the car roof, balancing on the passenger seat and taking aim from the roof. The SUV in front makes a weird popping noise before it swerves into a wall, exploding. The heat blast shatters the back windshield. 

"Get down!" Slush snaps, and yanks at Rika's leg, the healer dropping back into his seat with a small thud as Slush careens back onto a main road. There are, thankfully, no civilians in the way, but Slush hardly cares if he runs anyone over. He has this idiot to keep alive and away from being in some test tube for the nest ten or so years.

The second SUV is gaining on them, and a well placed shot slices the dashboard in two. Rika stares for a minute at the sparking controls. "Sexy."

"It's _not_ ," Slush growls, and looks at the hole Rika made in the roof. He doesn't have time for Rika's comments. "You drive. I'm taking the other one down."

"How're you supposed to do that?" Rika shouts after him, but the assassin has already let go of the steering wheel. The healer yelps and manages to grab it in time, the car swerving dangerously as Slush climbs out to the roof, balancing precariously atop it, sword held in front of him like it'd help him balance. He blocks the first shot easily, the bullet striking a nearby building and piercing a window. Screams erupt from within. The next few attacks go the same way, and by this time, the opposing assassin seems to realize they're getting nowhere and aim down at the broken back window. 

Smart, considering that if Slush was up here, Rika is still inside the car.

Rika shouts something that sounds vaguely like "Hang on!" and Slush manages to jam his sword into the roof to stay still as the car swerves violently, avoiding the blast by an inch. 

Slush studies the SUV, judging the gap between them. It seems to be a bit wide to jump over, so he slams the heel of his boot on the roof of the car. "Hey, idiot, slow down a bit."

He can see Rika widen his eyes at him from the slight opening in the roof. "What?"

"Slow down, or I'll slow down for you."

There's a brief pause and a sudden screech as the brakes kick in for an instant, releasing after only a moment. But it's enough for the car to jerk slightly, ending up nearly bumper to bumper with the SUV. 

Slush takes his chance, yanking his sword from the roof and jabbing it into the SUV's windshield, cracking it and using the leverage to launch himself to the roof of the SUV. The other assassin startles and lifts their own weapon, which Slush slices easily to the rushing pavement besides them, sword locked in the innards of the remains of the other's gun. 

There's a sharp pain in his side, and he glances downwards to see a dagger half imbedded there, his opponent offering him a sharp toothed grin before Slush decapitates them, letting them fall to the roof. 

Ignoring the pain, he shoves his sword directly downwards over the driver's spot, and almost immediately, the SUV swerves away from the car before them, the assassin just barely managing to leap from the vehicle to cling to the open window of Rika's car. The glass punctures his skin and he winces in pain, but climbs in anyway and takes the driver's seat again. Rika relinquishes his hold on the steering wheel and the pedals before noticing Slush's wounds. 

"Let me heal that after, 'kay?"

Slush just grunts in response. They got rid of the second one, but the third is still there, and they're running out of road as they near the bay. At this rate, they would go off the docks and into the freezing cold water. 

"Bridge," Rika points, and Slush swallows his spite and follows the healer's lead, wrenching the steering wheel so the car nearly flips over, heading at a sharp angle to the bridge entrance. 

The SUV is catching up quickly as they enter the bridge, and with a sudden bang, the larger vehicle is on them, the side door scraping against the car's window. Spiderweb cracks spread from the passenger side window and Rika presses the barrel of his gun to the door, firing twice. The bolts pass cleanly through the SUV but it hardly seems deterred by the damage and the car starts to rattle as the pressure increases. Slush can see the sparks flying as the car scrapes against the side of the bridge, and he guns the gas pedal, the SUV responding by swerving away and coming at them again, the car emitting an alarming crunching sound as the hood cracks in two. 

The bridge wall is starting to give way now, pieces of concrete falling off of the top as the SUV makes another pass at them. The passenger side splinters and the car jolts wildly, Slush ending up halfway against his own door, foot still on the accelerator, Rika partway in his lap, shotgun still aimed at the SUV. The larger car slows slightly and Slush catches a glimpse of the driver leering at them before lifting the nozzle of a very large gun and aiming it at Slush's face. 

"Down!" He grabs Rika and forcefully pushes the healer to the ground, all too aware of the stinging in his side and hands as the shot arcs above them and shatters the driver's door and the bridge wall. There are several seconds where they're suspended a moment in midair, half between falling and staying on solid ground before gravity takes over and sends them both into the bay.

The water is like a shock to his body and he nearly loses consciousness on impact, the frigidness threatening to immobilize his already cold body. He drives himself to the surface, coughing and spitting up seawater and clinging to a slab or metal. When he regains his senses, he can see the car lying in pieces around him, mostly pieces that were about the size of driftwood like the one he's holding; he assumes the rest already sank. The pain has faded to a dull thud of blood in his ears, which is probably good for the time being. As far as he can tell, he's alive and accounted for, his sword still in its scabbard, but Rika--

_Rika_. Slush doesn't know if the fucker even knows how to swim, but it wouldn't go well if the man with his paycheck drowned so he drags himself onto a piece of car debris and searches the water for any sign of obnoxiously bright clothing. Panic starts to inexplicably rise in him the further he looks. It shouldn't take that long for some skinny prick to sink to the bottom of the bay, but Rika seems to definitely not be on the surface of the water, as much as Slush hopes him to be.

He's about to just blindly go into the water to search when he catches a faint glimpse of red. The car was some insignificant color, he knows that, so it should be Rika. His body is moving before his mind can even protest. He's cold and tired and injured, but this is probably the fastest that he's moved in forever, the water sending adrenaline surging through his body. 

He manages to grab Rika under the arms and pull the healer back to the surface, fighting past the extra weight of both of their clothes dragging them down. Blood is seeping into the water around them, and Slush doesn't know if it's his or Rika's but the cold is going to freeze both of them if he doesn't move quickly. Rika's unconscious, his head lolling to the side, body half bent in the assassin's arms as Slush struggles to get them to shore. His legs and lungs are burning, the sword at his side feels like it weighs a ton, but he somehow drags his boss the rest of the way to dry land and nearly collapses from exhaustion. 

Rika is still unresponsive and Slush lets him drop to the ground, falling to his knees himself, shockridden mind struggling to remember how to do CPR.

Pulse. Pulse first. It wouldn't make sense if the prick wasn't even alive. He fumbles for Rika's wrist, noting the strange coldness from the other's body.

Rika's pulse is there, at least, even if he isn't breathing.

What was the next step? CPR? 

He hopes to god that he doesn't have to do this for long.

Slush steadies himself before starting the chest compressions; there's still no response, and the assassin mentally groans before steeling whatever weird thoughts his brain is betraying him with and tilts the healer's chin up, pinching the other's nose shut. 

Rika's mouth tastes like the bay water, blood, and a faint hint of some unidentifiable spice, his lips just as cold as his wrist, and Slush grimaces internally before releasing his breath into his boss' lungs. One. Two. Three. He probably goes a bit overboard, but it doesn't matter. He's hyper aware of the fact that this technically counts as kissing the other, even if Rika isn't conscious for it, but he forces his mind back on track. 

After two more rounds of compressions and awkward mouth-to-mouth, Rika coughs, water spilling from his lips. Slush sits back and watches, the coolness of the other's mouth still imprinted into his mind as the healer manages to sit up and stand, vomiting bay water onto the ground between them. The assassin waits until he's done before standing with a huff, wiping his own mouth.

Rika watches him, now wringing out his jacket so the pool of water at his feet grows bigger, mixing with blood dripping from his body. "Didn't know you knew CPR, sweetheart." His voice somehow is unharmed, unfortunately, with only a faint waver from the remaining coldness of the bay.

"Shut up," Slush mutters, moving past the other with the intent to get away from the swirling thoughts coursing through his mind right now. "I only did it for the paycheck. Don't think I actually care about you."

"Of course not~"

Rika doesn't sound like he believes it for a second, and after watching the healer nearly fall over again from shivering, and feeling his own mind force down thoughts of trying to figure out a way to get both of them dry immediately, Slush isn't sure if he believes it either.


	4. trust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Filler chapter in its own regards. Slush gets slightly fed up with Rika but the feelings diminish to confliction.

"I don't think I thanked you yet," Rika says when they're wandering the streets the next day. It was night when they arrived from the bay and the temperature has dropped, but they had found an open air vent from a nearby shack and slept in front of it for what seemed like hours. Slush's hair is nearly dry, which he takes an the indicator for the reason why Rika's saying all this now.

It's hard to think when your body is coping to wetness and extreme cold temperatures.

"Don't bother," Slush replies shortly. "It's what I'm being paid to do, right?"

Rika grins. "You are, but you could've just let me drown and take the paycheck on your own."

"You don't even have the paycheck, idiot."

Rika hums. "I actually do, compadre. I wrote it out before we left that apartment."

Slush blinks. That was unexpected. It's already strange that Rika opened up to him the other night, but this is something way beyond that. 

You don't tell an experienced assassin where the very thing they keep you alive for is. It's a stupid move, and Slush immediately moves Rika up a scale on his mental 'Levels of Moron' scale. The healer was already pretty high, but this made him jump two notches in the very least. 

"Why the fuck would you tell me that."

"In case you feel like you can't continue the job." Rika winks. "Not to say, of course, you lack the skills, but you're welcome to take it whenever you like, as long it's without my knowledge."

"Like if you die." His voice is too flat to convey the amount of disbelief he's feeling right now. 

"Exactly!" Rika snaps his fingers. He's too happy to be talking about death, even for someone who nearly died only a few hours ago. "See, you're smart, sweetheart, you get it!"

"Shut up."

Rika laughs -- the complete opposite response Slush wants to this. "Are those the only two words you can say, sir? Wonder how your partner would feel about that~"

"I'm single."

That gets a snort of surprise from the other. "I wasn't asking, sweetheart, don't freak. But that's good to know, I guess~"

Slush frowns. Rika is a flirt, he knows that. He could be hitting on Slush for all he knows, but the assassin isn't going to let it work. Rika's probably using him, especially by telling him where the paycheck is, as if Slush's own value for Rika's life could amount to that. 

The more he thinks about it, the more sure he becomes, and the realization drives him forward more forcefully, Rika hurrying to keep up.

"Woah, where're you going, sir?"

Slush grunts in response, and Rika is silent for several seconds before rambling again.

"I've been here before, so we can probably find food or something I stashed if you don't want to go into some restaurants, sweetheart. That's how I got the car 'cause I've just been hiding out along these cities until you found me, so I guess all of it is coming into use now. There's a good bar down the street if you want to try that. Last person who took me there had a hell of a t--"

"Stop talking."

Rika blinks. "What?"

"If you're trying to flirt with me, it's not working."

Slush doesn't look back at Rika as he says it, but when the healer responds, his voice sounds a bit strange.

"Who said I was flirting with you?"

"Your whole.. thing." Frustrated with being unable to say the right words, Slush brings himself to a halt and spins to face the other. "Calling me pet names, being openly suggestive, opening up to me on the first night when I didn't ask for it--"

"Oh, that's actually--"

"Save it," Slush grinds out. "I'm not interested, so lay off, alright?"

He starts to stalk down the street again, not caring whether the healer follows him or not. This is starting to feel like a bad decisions. Rika's just out for his own skin, he knows, so why pretend? Why give him a false sense of security?

The thought gives him an idea and he stops again, turning to see Rika right behind him. "Where's the paycheck?"

"What?" Rika has the grace to look confused.

"The paycheck, idiot. If I'm going to take it eventually, I need to know where it is."

There's a brief pause and then Rika winks. "My pants, sweetheart."

Of fucking _course_ he'd say that. Slush doesn't know why he would expect anything different, and he turns away again. "Whatever. I told you not to flirt with me."

"That counts as flirting?" 

_God_ , this prick is so fucking stupid. "It does," he bites out, and refuses to acknowledge Rika for the rest of the day and night, not even as the healer talks about the time he had to bind this kid's arm for the first time, or even as Mel, the friend from earlier, is brought up. 

"--And I had to explain to her I had like at least twenty bounties on my head alone and she would be better off in the city instead of roaming with me. Took it pretty well, though, and settled down with a boyfriend, so I can't complain." A light chuckle. "We did have this pact that if we were both single by the time we turned thirty, we'd hunt each other for sport, so I'm slightly relieved."

Slush doesn't know why he's paying attention, why the only thing he picked up on that was that Rika also was single. Made sense, if you were a wanted man, but usually unimportant information for a bodyguard.

They're both sitting at an empty table outside a closed restaurant. It's the best place they can manage because they're too far away from Rika's supposed 'safe place' and the motels are full. The bar nearby is thumping with enough bass to shake the benches, so Slush takes first watch. He wouldn't be able to sleep anyway, and besides, Rika had taken the watch two nights in a row. 

He's a terrible bodyguard at this point, but the check had already been written out.

He glances at the now-sleeping healer besides him. Rika's rather ungraceful as he sleeps, with half his body sprawled along the table, but he somehow makes it work. 

Slush catches sight of the tally marks etched into the other's arm where his jacket sleeve is riding up, and briefly wonders who Rika's old boss killed. Then he wonders if Rika would wake up if he tried to take the paycheck from him. 

Rika wouldn't wake up ever if the assassin killed him, sure, but Slush finds it hard to raise his sword against the guy he saved a day ago. It's counterproductive, and the whole staying alive gig is easier with two people, even if it has its moments of annoyance. Rika isn't the best person to be dealing with all this, due to the lack of formality and seriousness on the healer's part, but Slush, for some reason, finds himself used to it. Even if he doesn't want to admit it.

The flirting is still a hard no, and even if Rika could be joking about the paycheck being in his pants, Slush isn't about to find out the truth anytime soon.

He doesn't want to, anyway.

His attention turns to the wounds that were previously in his side and hands. Rika had healed both -- and his own wounds -- after finding enough strength from the incident in the bay, which was remarkable, considering he almost drowned. It was somewhat of a mess to get his shirt open, though Slush was careful to hide his larger scars. 

Rika had talked the entire way through it, the prick, which the assassin ended up being slightly grateful for, because it took his mind off of how unnaturally cold Rika's skin still was. It heated up to usual temperature when he was healing, but the initial coolness almost made Slush pull away.

"Why the fuck are you so cold?" Slush had asked.

Rika had shrugged, grinning. "Fell in the bay, sweetheart, sound familiar? I should ask why you're so concerned."

Slush grimaced at that and had shut his mouth, leaving Rika to ramble more about his stupid healing powers: "It takes more energy to heal when I'm cold and harder when I'm healing another person, so--"

"Didn't ask," Slush answers, cutting him off, partially because he doesn't care, and partially because he doesn't want to know, just in case random assassins are listening in to Rika basically laying his weaknesses out to bare.

Rika had smiled briefly at him before moving to the wound in his side, finishing the job with less talking, thankfully.

Slush still doesn't know what to think of Rika. The guy reminds him a lot of his old boss, which is disturbing enough, and to add the fact that Rika is treating him like some innocent person who hasn't killed anyone in his life, Slush is half expecting a trap if he gives in. Not to mention the flirting thing. 

He can't trust that Rika's weaknesses are true, even if physical evidence is there. Rika does a scarily good job of hiding the dull eyes and the slumped posture behind a wink and a smile, but Slush can tell with how easily the guy fell asleep, he must be exhausted. 

Slush himself can feel his own eyelids droop slightly, but he forces himself to stay awake, hand tightening on the handle of his sword just because he can. 

No slacking.

Rika shifts in his sleep, and Slush instinctively tenses, even though there's no danger that he can see here. He hadn't been doing anything wrong either, but there's a sense of foreboding dread, even if Rika is far from anyone in his old life, there's still that similarity that makes Slush react in ways he wished to get rid of. Rika moves again, and Slush can almost swear the healer is staring at him if the other's eyes weren't closed--

Suddenly Rika's eyes snap open; he jerks upright like a puppet on a string, and Slush nearly falls off of his seat. "What the fuck--"

Rika blinks before his gaze locks onto Slush. His shoulders are tense, but as soon as he sees the assassin, he relaxes and offers the other a half grin. "Sorry, sweetheart. Bad habit. You want me to take next shift?"

"You took the entire night two days in a row, asshole," Slush snaps, trying to calm his racing heart. "Go back to sleep."

Rika runs a hand through his bangs. "Sir--"

"Don't 'sir' me, moron. You need to fucking sleep. Now we're even."

The healer stares at him a moment longer before his lips turn upwards. "Thank you."

Slush scoffs and turns away. "Whatever."

Rika would be of no help if he was too tired. After all, healing, even if Slush can protest against it all he wants, is useful. Sure, something to help with fighting off the endless stream of assassins would be helpful, but together they're more than capable of taking them down.

_Not to mention he overwhelmed you without a decent weapon_ , the nasty part of his mind reminds him, and he mentally tells that part of his brain to shut the fuck up. _Fine, Rika can defend himself well enough,_ he argues back, _but the idiot already almost drowned. That's stupid on its own._

The voice in his head is silent after that.

He still feels no better about his situation. They're on the run, and even if he did turn Rika over, he'd probably get punishment for taking too long. Rika, so far, hadn't tried to torture him or anything and he even healed the rope burns after their first encounter. That's a step up, but Slush still can't trust him.

But being free is a new concept, and though he's still employed by someone, namely a huge prick, it feels good to slaughter the assassins that previously worked alongside him. The years of abuse feel like they're diminishing, and even if Rika is painfully like his previous boss, it's a new type of a exhilaration to kill people now, especially people that Slush had wished to kill for years on end, but knowing if he followed through, he'd be eliminated.

What was that saying? The enemy of my enemy is my friend? Rika is probably the last person he'd want as a friend -- and he thinks of Mel and how the hell she could put up with him -- but it's ironic how this ended up. Were they even friends? What even classified as a friend?

A few more minutes of pondering, and he decides it's not worth it.

And when he turns back to check on Rika, the healer is asleep again. Figures. Slush marks this as a mental victory as the night drags on.

**Author's Note:**

> these idiots suck and they both know it


End file.
